Fidelis
by Katiki Summerwind
Summary: A slightly dark take on a popular indie game.
1. Chapter 1

**Description:** A fairly dark take on an otherwise innocent indie game.

**Warnings:** This is fairly violent. The rating will shift between chapters; some may be more violent than others.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or claim to own Minecraft or any respective copyrighted content from it.

**A/N: **This is my first time writing in a long while, soooo, yeah. :T  
Reviews and the like are very welcome, I'm still new to this site so I have no idea what the terms are. Derp.

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The small lithe form darted past me with a fierce snarl before I was even aware of what was happening. Turning around with sword in hand, I faced the grotesque humanoid creature, hearing its growls of pain as my loyal pet snapped at its limbs. Racing forward, careful not to hit the dog, I lunged and brought the sword down on the undead's already bloody skull, watching as it fell to the ground and finally stilled for the last time. Wiping the disgustingly green-tinted blood off of my sword, I turned back to continue down the path with my dog trotting beside me.

The undead were appearing more and more lately. I rolled the facts and questions of them around in my head. Why were they here? What happened? Am I alone? Are there no other survivors? These zombies were clearly people at one time, but what converted them? How did they become the snarling, brain-dead and pointlessly violent creatures now roaming the streets of the eerily quiet ghost towns? Glancing down at the bandaged gash on my arm, I knew it definitely wasn't from blood contact.

I sighed and stretched my arms above my head, wincing at the dull pain that sent a sharp spike into my mind. I'd been getting headaches ever since I woke up on that damned island, lacking all memory. I couldn't even remember my name. The only memory I seemed to have retained was just everyday motor skills and English. How did I even get here?

I clutched the back of my head as the pain subsided, and my dog looked up at me with curiosity and confusion. I smiled slightly and reach down to scratch his tall, fuzzy, grey ears, hearing a soft whooshing sound as he wagged his tail in happiness, glad to be the center of attention. I really should have given him a name by now. I'd managed to find a red collar in one of the abandoned cottages in this ghost town and slipped it onto him. While the tag was blank, the slight jingling of it gave me a clue of where he was. Thinking back, I remembered finding my sword there, too. I looked down at the brilliant blue of the blade, remembering the cold body I'd ripped it from in that cottage. His decayed hands still wrapped around the hilt as it protruded from his chest. Poor bastard. He must have thought suicide would be his only way out.

We were on our way to a new town, though, in hopes of finding more food and hopefully a sturdier house. The path through the unforgiving wilderness was dangerous, though, and we both were tense with alertness, reacting to every small sound.

We both froze when we heard a twig snap, our hearts running a million miles an hour and our blood running cold at the thought of another fight. We were both exhausted, wanting nothing more than to find an uninfected house with a stock of food and sleep. The moonlight filtered through the trees, just enough light to see where we were going but not enough to see any hidden threats. I slowly reached down to grab the hilt of my sword and bring it slowly up from its sheath, freezing when the act of metal sliding against metal created a small screech. I heard another twig snap and a low growl, almost too quiet to hear. Crouching down into a defensive position, I readied myself to defend against another undead. As I locked my eyes onto the spot where the sound came from, I heard a rustling of leaves to my left, not too far from me. The dog turned to bare his teeth and let out a soft snarl, letting the creature know that he wasn't someone you wanted to mess with.

Panic flooded my mind as I heard more movement, all around us. Looking down at the intelligent canine, I nodded forward and he seemed to understand. The foliage around us suddenly erupted into a dozen zombies, all growling and snarling savagely in their bloodlust. For seemingly brain-dead creatures, they apparently knew enough to know how to ambush.

As the first one lunged with an inhuman, guttural sound, I sidestepped and ran forward, ramming into another and shoving it to the side with all my might in my quest to go forward. At the same time I saw my dog gracefully dodging all of the attacks, practically dancing around them all. I swear I could have seen him smirking as he outsmarted them all. The dozen quickly grew to a few dozen, all of them crawling out of the foliage in a never-ending tirade of horror. My eyes grew wide with terror as their numbers grew. This must have been the town's population, all converted to these creatures of hell. Neatly dodging another attack, I danced to the side and decapitated the attacker with a single swing of that beautifully blue sword. Just as I turned to dodge another, a pair of claws raked down my back, protected only by a thin shirt, causing me to cry out in pain. I swiftly turned again to bury my sword in the creature's neck, hearing a snarl of hatred before it fell to the ground to join its killed brethren.

My heart sank as I heard a yelp of pain to my left, knowing that, as smart and agile as my dog was, he couldn't keep this up forever. We needed to get out of here, and fast. I doubled my efforts to make it past them all, receiving a few light bites and scratches on my way but nothing too bad. I finally broke through the crowd and continued my sprint, looking to my left to see my faithful canine running with me. He had a large scratch down his right leg, but other than that he seemed fine.

We sped up our run when we saw a large mansion in the distance, no doubt stocked with food. I sprinted towards it with relief that this will finally be over, my lungs aching from the workout. I leapt onto the porch and threw open the doors, slamming them shut once my dog rushed through them and locking them solid. I rushed to put nearby furniture at the door, sealing it off. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall next to the door, sliding to the floor in exhaustion. I spent a moment to catch my breath, laughing slightly as I realized we were finally safe, we were finally going to be okay.

My happiness was short-lived as I heard my dog let out a loud snarl. My eyes snapped open to look at the six or seven zombies surrounding us. Right, mansion, giant house, of course it'd be infested. I let out an exasperated sigh as I grabbed the hilt of my sword again.

This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or claim to own Minecraft or any respective copyrighted content from it.

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I grimaced at the sickening sound of crunching bone as I pressed my foot down, pinning the body to the floor and drawing my sword out of it with an equally repulsive sound. I leaned down to wipe the undead's blood off on its tattered clothing before sheathing it again with the loud ring of metal on metal.

I couldn't wait for this damned... thing to be over. What could it be called, really? It wasn't an adventure, not by choice. I was exploring an unknown continent in a different world for all I knew, simply to keep living. Then again, as much as I grumbled my dismay for my misfortune and groaned at the pain of injuries sustained, I secretly loved it. The unknown. Waking up every morning and having no clue what I would find out there. Would today be the day that I finally ran into another human being? Would I find the root cause of this apocalyptic outbreak? Maybe I would finally find out why I was here. I sighed and knitted my hands behind my head, stretching, as these thoughts swirled around in my mind. I winced as the pain from various cuts and bruises returned at my movement.

My faithful canine regarded me with an inquisitive look, asking with simple eye contact what our next move was. He was always so eager, so willing to have to fight for the right to live. With further analysis of my own feelings, I realized the same went for me. This was living. Sure, it might be hell, but every day brought some new challenge.

I sighed and decided that with the immediate danger out of the way, now might be a good time to finally explore our new, temporary home. Oh, it was indeed an amazing house, but what would be the point of staying? Eventually either the remaining zombified populace of the town would overtake us, or possibly we might be able to fight the horde off, living on in peaceful serenity, save for the random strangler emerging from the nearby forests. It wasn't really worth the chance, though. We needed to find civilization.

And not one where the inhabitants greeted us with savage snarls and barred teeth.

I let out a long sigh and started to explore our large abode. My hand instinctively wrapped around the hilt of my blade as I crept around a corner. My mind was on full alert for any sounds indicating the possibility of another fight, although at the same time I knew this was impossible. Surely any other undead in the house would have heard the scuffle in the foyer. Then again, they did ambush us in the past; they could surely do so again. Soundlessly making my way down a hall, I found myself in the kitchen. A single glowing block donned the ceiling, providing plenty of light, just the same as in the foyer. I opened the cupboard door to check for any hidden intruders, only to find a giant room.

Full of food.

Tons of food.

I let out a (frankly pitiful) squeak of astonishment at the welcome surprise. This would keep us alive for months to come. Grinning as I closed the door, I turned back to continue scouting out the mansion, and my expression fell back into grim uncertainty at what I might find. I made as little sound as possible as I looked for any other rooms nearby. A den was revealed behind one dimly lit door, containing only a table, some chairs, and a couch.

I made my way back to the foyer and was greeted by the soft sound of a wagging tail. I nodded with a slight smirk to the eager dog and he made his way over to me, his walk full of certainty and pride, which warranted another smirk from me. Nothing in the world could permanently damage the positive outlook of a canine, not even the apocalypse. The shimmering tags on his collar jingled ever so slightly as he looked up at me with smiling eyes, wanting nothing more than to know what exciting event was waiting for us next. For a moment I remembered I really should have given him a name by now. I shook the thought away just as quickly though. There were more pressing matters for the time being.

We both made our way to the stairs at the end of the foyer, and I hoped to any and all deities that there wasn't some army of rabid, rotting, reanimated corpses waiting for us at the top. I rolled my shoulders with a soft groan, feeling the dull, constant pain from past injuries and lack of sleep. I couldn't deal with another big fight. The seven zombies we'd encountered upon entering the house had taken my last reserves of energy to fend off, and I was sure the dog was feeling the same way. As eager as he was for danger, I could see the slight sag in his walk and the way his eyelids drooped ever so slightly.

We made our way to the top of the first flight of stairs, hitting a small landing and stopping for a moment to survey it. The same glowing block hung from the ceiling, proving enough light to drive any shadows away. No rooms, no hiding spots. Couldn't be too careful, though. I turned and made my way up the second flight, hearing the barely audible jingle of the dog tags behind following right behind me.

Making our way to the top of the stairs, a wide hallway with 3 doors greeted us. For a mansion, our new home didn't seem to have many rooms. Then again, we were lucky if the smaller houses we'd encountered in the past had so much as 2 rooms.

I reached out a tentative hand out to the closest door, which was already open just a crack, and slowly swung it open. I spotted a large bed in the center of the room immediately. A bedroom, alright. A very large bedroom, actually. I crept my way into the room, careful not to make any noise as I let my eyes sweep over the expansive room. They fell on a small door, which I went to open just as carefully, and it revealed a small walk-in closet. I realized, after a moment, that it was conspicuously empty. The previous residents must have fled when this whole damn thing started.

Whenever the hell that was. When I woke up and found myself on that damned island in the middle of nowhere, zombies were already roaming the lands freely. Had this whole thing happened the same time I found myself here? Had I had something to do with it?

More importantly, where the hell had the former homeowners gone? I needed to find some clue as to where they headed. Had they just blindly ran? Or was this some refuge they set out for specifically? The missing clothes said that they planned it, even as sudden as it must have been. They weren't running without a clear direction, if they bothered to pack.

I stalked over to a desk next to the bed and began to noisily rifle through it, looking for any tip as to where they went, and forgetting the importance of remaining quiet as my anxiety rose. It seemed like I spent hours hunched over the desk, ransacking any drawer in it and flipping through the many papers. Finally I went through the last pile of them and still had yet to find any clue as to where this "refuge" might be.

I let my frustration boil up into a low growl as I punched the nearby wall, feeling slightly helpless at the moment. I turned to find the dog looking up at me with worried eyes, concerned for both my well-being and for the dangerous amount of noise I'd made.

Before I had time to contemplate the danger of my actions, a spectacularly loud crash sent the lighted block in the hallway plummeting to the floor, plunging the whole hallway into darkness.

Before I even knew what happened, I had already drawn my sword and slipped easily into a fighting stance, ready for any attack, my eyes intent on the darkened doorway. My canine was already by my side, crouched into his own feral, defensive stance, his bright, amber eyes searching the dark for any danger but still finding none. His ears twitched forward as a shifting sound came from the hallway, and a soft hiss.

I held my breath in fear and gripped the hilt of my blade tighter, turning my knuckles white, as adrenaline surged through me. Whatever was out there was decidedly NOT a zombie, but I wasn't too eager to find out what.

The decision was made for me, though, as a black shape suddenly darted into the room with a violent hiss, straight for me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or claim to own Minecraft or any respective copyrighted content from it.

**A/N: **This was written over the course of like three nights at ridiculously early times in the morning due to lack of sleep, soooo, don't expect a masterpiece. :T

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I gasped as the air was violently knocked out of me and I found myself flat on my back with the black, hissing shape above me. The only thing that separated us was the flat of my sword against what could be roughly referred to as its face. Its mandibles snapped wildly only inches from my face, each failed attempt bringing another sound of scathing hate from it. I refrained from wasting any time wondering what the hell was trying to kill me; all conscious brainpower had seemingly drained from me at the surprise attack. Only my natural fighting instincts were keeping me alive for the time being, and barely.

I kicked violently from under it, trying to knock it off as I pressed the blade harder against its head, pushing it back as another hiss sounded from its mouth. Something sharp pressed against my side and I cried out as it raked its way down, leaving searing pain in its wake. The creature trashed on top of me, claws still digging into me as it continued its attempts to get closer. I glimpsed a flash of red in the dim lighting and many beady, hate-filled eyes glared daggers into my own.

Finally getting enough space, I turned the blade enough to drive the sharp edge of it into the abomination's face and it reared back with a sound filled with pain and malevolence. Using this moment, I kicked it from underneath and it stumbled back with a loathing hiss, which gave me a window of opportunity to get up. It lunged again but this time I was ready, swinging the blade and bringing it into contact with its face directly, hitting those blood-red eyes. Crying out again, it fell to the floor with a dull thud before scrambling around blindly, spewing hostile sounds. I took a step forward and raised my sword up in the air with the blade facing down, highlighted in the soft lighting. With my own venomous growl, I plunged the sword down, finally ending the creature's miserable existence.

I let out an exhausted sigh as I pulled my blade out of the creature, which I could now see was an unrealistically gigantic spider. Since when the hell had spiders the size of dogs existed? With that thought I spun around suddenly, wide-eyed, looking frantically for my own loyal canine. Unable to see him, I ran to check around the room, cursing my delay in naming him, and thus having nothing to call out with.

I then heard soft movement from in the closet, and turned to see the brilliant dog sitting there, his swaying tail accentuating that toothy, canine grin as he stood over his prize. I guess I hadn't been the only one in a fight. I looked over his kill, noting that it was slightly smaller than the one I had fought off, but it had no doubt been just as deadly. It had multiple bite marks all over its long, slender limbs. One strong mark was placed between the head and body; the obvious killing blow.

Reaching down to pet the magnificent hound, I winced as the movement brought pain back to my sides. I glanced down to see the injuries caused by the fight. Blood seeped through my ripped and tattered clothing. A large cut adorned my left side, with smaller ones making trails all over my abdomen and chest.

The dog looked up at me with worried eyes and followed me as I made my way to the bathroom. Taking my teal, shredded shirt off, I positioned myself in front of a mirror and sucked in a startled breath at what I saw.

The apocalypse had definitely taken its toll on me. Scrapes and cuts decorated my arms and back, injuries of all kinds splayed out across my upper body. Two months of fighting for survival had done all of this? Or at least I assumed it was two months, it seemed something close to that. It's not like I had a wristwatch and a calendar while running for my life.

My pain brought me out of my head as I twisted a bit too far to look over my scars and aggravated the recent injuries. I let out a strained sigh as I rummaged through the drawers for a first-aid kid and, against all odds, managed to find one. Opening it, I applied the necessary disinfectant to it, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding in a pained hiss that almost mimicked that of the creature that caused the injury. Once the sting had diffused, I cleaned the injury and bandaged it up. I realized I should probably do the same to my smaller cuts, but a barely audible whimper from behind me tore me from my thoughts.

The dog, I'd completely forgotten. I kneeled by him with the first-aid kid and begun attending to his own injuries, reassuring him with a pet to the head every now and then. He looked up at me trustingly, but obviously in pain. He only had a few injuries, the worst being the cut on his leg from earlier. Once I finished dressing his wounds, he curiously sniffed the bandage on his leg before looking up at me with bright eyes again. He almost seemed to be thanking me.

"It'll be alright," I reassured him again as I scratched his fuzzy, pointed ears. My own voice surprised me slightly. It sounded gravely and hoarse and I could hear the obvious exhaustion in it. I hardly talked much, it's not like it had been a very necessary thing when my only companion was a wolf-like canine. He seemed to react happily to my reassurance, though, his tail whooshing slightly through the air. I smiled back, glad to have a loyal friend.

I turned back to the mirror and noted how toned I was with a smirk before stepping out of the bathroom, and the dog followed loyally behind me. All this running and fighting was definitely a good workout, albeit a stressful as hell one.

I made my way to the back of the bedroom, examining an abandoned suitcase that I'd noticed earlier. Stupidly, I realized, this should have been the first place I checked for any hint as to the former owner's location. Opening it, I found exactly what I was looking for: clothes. I quietly slipped on a new, light blue t-shirt.

With an inward grown I realized I needed to continue my survey of the house. There were two more rooms on this floor, and there could be anything in them. I riffled through the suitcase until I found some matches, and made my way over to the door again. I lit one up and held it in front of me, looking into the hallway for any danger and finding none within the range of my light. I nodded to the dog for him to follow me and he quickly and quietly made his way to my side, falling into step alongside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

We checked all corners of the hallway and found no danger, and I sighed with relief. My eyes fell on the open doorway of one of the other rooms, though, and I tensed up again. Tentatively, I stepped into the room, wary of any potential danger. The light was still up in this room, thankfully. It seemed to be a sort of work-room, filled with various tools and materials. A soft breeze hit my face and I realized that the window was open. I rushed to close it, firmly locking it shut to prevent any further intruders into our house. This must have been where the spiders got into the mansion. My thoughts were confirmed as I noted the trail of disrupted furniture and items that led all the way across the room from the window to the door.

Stepping out of the room, I made my way to the final door, nervous yet again for another encounter. I turned the doorknob and pushed forward, finding myself in a small - and thankfully unoccupied - storage room. A dozen or so chests lined the walls, which barred no windows. I sighed heavily with relief as all the tension of the last 24 hours left my body. Looking down, the dog seemed to have the same reaction.

We calmly walked back to the bedroom and I ungracefully flopped down on the large bed, welcoming the rest that had seemingly avoided me for so long. I dimly registered the weight of the bed shifting beside me as my faithful canine curled up next to me. He let out a sigh before quickly slipping into a deep sleep, just as ready for a long rest. I closed my eyes and finally let the peaceful waves of sleep wash over me.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I needed a more lighthearted chapter, after all that fighting.

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Sighing contentedly, I flipped yet another page in my book. My arm soon grew tired of holding up the heavy literature, and I shifted to redistribute the weight to my other arm, letting out a quiet stream of curses as the movement caused a twinge of pain in some of my healing injuries.

The dog and I had been living in our comfy abode for nearly a week now. Or at least I assumed so, it's not like I had any clue as to the date and time in this damned... place.

I couldn't really complain, though. Things were going good for us. We were safe. The windows and doors had been boarded up easily, and the undead seemed to have given up after only a couple attempts to breach the defenses. Our house was quiet and peaceful, now; a welcome respite from the chaotic state of the outside world. Of course it wasn't going to last forever, but I was damn well going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Stretching slightly with a soft yawn, careful not to irritate any healing wounds, I set the set the large tome down on the table next to me and got up off the bed. If we were going to be living here, I might as well explore the house in more detail, now that my injuries weren't quite as bad. Of course I had already surveyed the house before, but it would be much more productive to do it without cowering in fear at whatever enemy could have been lying in wait for me.

The dog looked up at me curiously as I walked past him, and he jumped off of the end of the bed to loyally fall in step beside me. I calmly walked across the hall and stepped into the work-room that I had discovered yesterday. Tools used for crafting and tables were still strewn this way and that from the spiders' blunt entry into the house. I bent to pick up the clutter, righting the furniture and putting the various instruments back onto them. Clearing up the last of the tools, I noticed a bit of leather poking out from under a few of them. I put the remaining items on the table closest and picked up the small book, turning it in my hands. The words "Crafting Guide" stood out in bright gold letters against the dull brown of the cover.

A crafting guide? For crafting what? Thumbing the book open, I found countless pictures and step-by-step instructions for various, helpful items. Torches, storage chests, compasses, watches, stairs, doors, furnaces, they all were explained easily and simply in this little book. Turning to another section, I saw pickaxes and axes, shovels and fishing rods, armour and weapons. This would be tremendously useful for our long journey to safety. I scanned the page and my face lifted in mild surprise as I saw an incredibly accurate picture of my brilliantly blue sword.

As I took a closer look at the book, reading the instructions, I noticed something. The step-by-steps seemed to be missing quite a few steps. All it showed was a three by three grid and a list of resources needed. It showed where to place the items, as sort of a loose prerequisite to creating it, I assumed, but nothing else. How was I supposed to bind the items together? It made absolutely no sense. Was I supposed to figure this out on my own?

I quickly walked out of the room, slight frustration making my steps fall a bit heavier than normal, and I made my way into the storage room. Holding the confusing book in one hand, I rifled through the various chests with the other. Finally I found the items I was looking for and scrambled back to the crafting room, dumping said items on a bare table. The dog looked at me with mild amusement in his eyes, entertained by my mixed enthusiasm and frustration.

I sifted through the items I had brought with me. A dozen or so wooden sticks littered the table, along with four large, heavy iron ingots. I supposed I'd grabbed more than I needed, but oh well. Moving to the crafting table nearby, I noticed the same nine-block grid on it. Analyzing the book, I had begun placing the items where it dictated, using two sticks and three pieces of iron to make the rough shape of a pickaxe.

I stared down at the table, glancing between it and the book. "Well, what the hell now?" I asked nobody in particular, glaring at the assorted items like I expected them to answer me.

And, in a way, they had.

A soft glow of purple lighted the table, barely noticeable at first. It slowly brightened, tearing my gaze away from the book, which I had decided to glare at again. The soft light suddenly flashed, and a sparking sound resounded around the room. I took a few steps back, worried slightly for my safety at this odd event. The dog looked equally as worried, letting out a barely audible whimper as the light flashed twice more. Sparks of the same light purple flew off of the table, complimenting the crackling sounds. The light was bright enough by now to make it impossible to see the items at its source. Suddenly, the light flashed once more and vanished. I lowered the arm that I'd instinctively thrown in front of my face, and glanced at the table.

If it was physically possible for my jaw to hit the floor in astonishment, it would have at that moment.

Sitting on the table, against every bit of logic and common sense that I had retained in this world, was a brand new pickaxe. I tentatively picked up the startlingly existent tool as though I was afraid it would vanish.

"Alright" I almost whispered, unsure what to think as I examined the tool. "So there's a table in my new house that magically makes whatever I want. Interesting." I chanced another look at the table. "And slightly scary."

My worry quickly dissipated as I glanced back at the book, noting all the useful and interesting things I could now make.

The dog sighed in annoyance and slipped off of the comfortable bed. He sauntered into the closet and nosed the door shut, trying to escape the constant flashes of ludicrously lilac light and my exclamations of wonder that flowed from the crafting room the whole night.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hey guys, I'm really sorry for the long wait! I was busy with a lot of stuff and I pretty much forgot about this for a while. Apologies!**

**So here, have a short, lighthearted chapter while I work on the rest of the story.**

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A loud, metallic ping resounded around the cavern and I reeled back. The pickaxe fell out of my grip and landed heavily on the ground, the result of my rapidly flailing arms as I sought to break the laws of physics and gain some purchase on the surrounding air.

Unfortunately, the universe didn't feel like bending its rules today, and my cartoonishly-chaotic movements only added more hilarity to the scene as I hit the ground with the dull thud of my armour and a slight _oomph_. I heard a small snort to my left and I could have sworn the dog was laughing at me.

"Yeah, yeah, giggle all you want, mutt," I needlessly retorted to the creature while pushing myself up off the ground, "but we need more minerals, and I hardly see any other way." Another snort. "Unless you want a go at it." All snorting promptly stopped.

"That's what I thought," I said with a light chuckle while hefting the pickaxe back into my grip. Looking back at the dog, I expected disinterest but instead I witnessed what I assumed was the canine equivelent of an eye roll before he got to his feet and padded over to me. He sniffed the ground at my feet curiously and started nudging me out of the way, clearly giving a hint. I made way for him and watched as he scratched experimentally at the rocky floor with one paw, brushing the dirt out of the way and exposing the glittering substance underneath.

He examined it for a moment, sizing it up, and then looked up at the horizontal beam supporting the cave ceiling. I could see the gears turning in his little mind. Eventually he turned to the backpack laying behind him and shoved his snout in it, rummaging around. Shortly he walked back over with a length of rope in his mouth, setting it down in front of me, before walking up and taking the pickaxe from me. Struggling with the weight of it for a moment, he set it down on the rope and looked at me expectantly. "What?" I questioned him, "do you want me to tie it?" At this he wagged his tail and gave me his best impression of a smile, and I kneeled to knot the rope around the handle. After giving the rope a quick tug to test its strength, I got back up and watched him for his next move, which ended up being the most surprising.

Taking the free end of the rope in his mouth, he quickly leapt onto some nearby minecarts, stacked in the corner for God knows how long. He used them to climb up onto the surrounding rocks, and then took a moment to rear back before leaping over the supportive beam. As he landed, I watched him tug experimentally on the rope, raising the pickaxe into the air slightly. I realized he was using the beam and rope as a makeshift pulley. He slackened the rope and the pickaxe struck the ground slightly with a small _clunk_, sending tiny bits of rock scattering. He repeated the action but raised the pickaxe much higher, and a larger crack opened where it hit.

My eyes were as could be from his show of ingenuity, and he turned and gave me his most smug expression. I was pretty sure that if he could talk, he would be making some sarcastic comment about how the only competent miner in the room didn't even have thumbs.

"Smartass."


End file.
